How to Train Your Villian
by HeartCurl23
Summary: Alfred just wanted a lazy day of watching TV, and eating ice What he got was a full day of hard at work training an unexpected visiter to change his
1. Chapter 1

Alfred didn't want to do too much today. All he wanted to do was sit on his couch, watch TV, play video games, and eat ice cream...but, what he wanted to do and what he did do are two completely different things. If he spent the day doing what he wanted, then this wouldn't be much of a story, now, wouldn't it?

He started to watch TV, lazilly chanel flipping, when he heard a ring from his doorbell. With a sigh, Alfred got up, opened the door, then slamed it shut, running under his bed with Mr. Pillow. "Go away!" he yelled to the door before he heard impasiont banging.

"Come on Alfred! Open the door!" the visitor yelled. "You don't even know why I'm here!"

"I don't care!" he yelled back. "Just go away!"

"Alfred! I want to be a hero!"

That phrase caught the blond's attention as he stedilly reaprotched the door. "...What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm sick and tired of always ending up in prison!"

Alfred bit his lip as he slowly reached for the knob and opened the door. "Why come to me?" he asked.

The red eyed burnette at his doorstep sighed as he set down his bat. "You're the exact oposite of me. Everyone else would kill me if they found out I came to you for help because being goody-two-shoes and heroes that ride off in the sunset on a white horse with a damsil in distress in our arms...WILLINGLY in our arms, hasn't been our style."

"...What's your point?"

"I'd rather be on a white horse in a sunset than a metal bed chained to a brick wall."

After a moments thought, Alfred stedilly and hesitantly opened the door wider for his guest. "...I guess...come on in Allan... But if you try anything like last time, then I'm calling Iggy! I have him on speed dial, and he'll send you right back where you came from!"

"...As long as you don't tell Oliver, I'd never hear the end of it then." Allan huffed. After a moment of awkward silence, the villian sighed. "Look, Al, can I call you Al?"

"No."

"Look Al, I'm sorry about trying to take your place last Christmas...and for handcuffing your girlfriend to her bed three months ago...and that whole thing where Oliver and I kinda beat you and Arthur and enslaved you in mirrors, sorry for that too...and also that time when I spiked your coffee with some of Oliver's special cupcake ingrediance...and that one time I-"

"That was you?!" Alfred yelled. "I had to go to the hospital because of my "unknown illness"! Do you know how much of a bill I got?!"

Allan, for the first time in his life, had a look dripping in guilt and shame. "...That's why I'm appologizing." he stated. "So we can start over with a clean slate." the blond American furrowed his brows as he scratched his chin in thought. In the silence, Allan began to sweat in nervousness. 'What's that word people say when they really want something and begging for it?' he asked himself. 'I think it starts with a "P"..."Pickle"? No. That's not it, not even close.' He continued to run random "P" words through his head, not even noticing that he was mumbling under his breath. "P-Puh-Pl-Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease."

Hearing him say something, Alfred looked at him oddly. "...What did you say?"

"...Please help me..." the 2p huffed.

The hero smiled and patted Allan's shoulder. "Seeing as how you want it so bad, alright. We'll start fresh and I'll teach you how to change your ways!"


	2. Step 1: Attire

Step 1: Attire  
"So...what are we looking for?" Allan asked as he watched Alfred dig through his closet.

"I'm looking for better cloths!" he answered. "You can't go around in a white t-shirt and ripped light blue jeans and that brown jacket with blood all over it, and expect everyone to see you as a hero, or even as a normal guy."

The burnette shrugged. "...What can I say?" he asked. "Blood from my more recent victoms drip from my bat on my cloths." he answered as he swung his bat to the other shoulder.

Alfred looked back at him with an arched brow. "...On that note...it would be better if you at least clean your bat and take out those rusty, crocked nails." Though he was a little relictant, Allan grabbed a hammer and started to pry the nails out of the wood. He was about half way done when his 1p came out of the closet with cloths in his hands. "Here you go~! They should fit just fine, they fit me, and we're practically the same person~!"

Allan sent him a glare. "...Except, I'm the exact oposite as you."

In return, he playfully smirked and tossed the cloths to him. "Just try it on."

The red eyed American looked at the cloths picked out for him as Alfred left the room and closed the door. In his hands was a blue t-shirt with a big red "S" on the chest and a pair of holess dark blue jeans. He was also given grey sneakers. With a sigh, he started to take off his jacket and pull his white shirt over his head.

After looking in the mirror, Allan huffed. "It doesn't look right." he stated. "Maybe I should see what Alfred has to say about it. He is my "teacher" after all." He left the room to see Alfred waiting in the hallway.

The blond scratched his chin in deep thought, circling his 2p. After several moments, he shook his head. "No." With that one word, he pushed past him and began to dig in his closet once again. "You need a different shirt!... And maybe a cap!" After he threw more cloths at Allan to change into, he once again left the room and shut the door. Allan looked at the shirt and cap in his hands, a small smile on his lips. In his hands was a white baseball shirt with red trimming. On the back it had an "A" with a halo. The same icon was on the front of the cap.

As he changed into the new shirt, he remembered that he used to love baseball as a kid. Oliver used to take him to games all the time back when they were close...

"I'm going to get a ball this time!" Allan exclaimed, enthusiasim sparkling in his red eyes.

"If you do, I'll go down there and get it signed by the batter just for you!" Oliver promised as the game went on. "If they refuse to sign, I'll just have to offer a cupcake in exchange~!" he stated, holding up the blue and pink mini cake with unspeakable ingredience inside.

Allan nearly caught the balls, but every time it was just out of his reach, right at the tip of the mit. After some time, he slumped in disappointment. "I'm never going to catch a ball." he whined. Just then, as he started to take his mit off, the palm facing up, a ball flew over the audience, hit Allan on the head, and bounced in the mit. He stared at the ball in his hand in disbelief and excitment as he waved it in his care taker's face. "Look Oliver! I knew I could catch one!"

...But then, as time passed, Oliver got clingy, and Allan demanded his space from him. After Oliver refused, he moved away from him, and they were never as close as they were again.

As he pulled on his jacket, Allan headed out to the hall once again with a ginuine smile on his face. Alfred circled him again before he took the jacket and pulled it off. "If you're going to wear a jacket, it's gotta be at least a bloodless jacket that doesn't look like it was made by a blind seamstress." The burnette took a deep breath before he relaxed again, letting go of the anger he had at the fact that someone made fun of his jacket. "Other than that, get your bat fixed, and you're good to go!"


End file.
